


Preferences

by Kiwi_the_Kylee



Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types, 文豪ストレイドッグス | Bungou Stray Dogs
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-17
Updated: 2020-03-17
Packaged: 2021-02-28 20:14:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,868
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23183095
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kiwi_the_Kylee/pseuds/Kiwi_the_Kylee
Summary: Character reactions and whatnot
Relationships: Altaïr Ibn-La'Ahad/Reader, Dazai Osamu (Bungou Stray Dogs)/Reader, Edward Kenway/Reader, Ezio Auditore da Firenze/Reader, Jacob Frye/Reader, Nakahara Chuuya (Bungou Stray Dogs)/Reader, Ratonhnhaké:ton | Connor/Reader
Kudos: 37





	1. Assassins Creed Protags - How You Meet

**Altair Ibn La'Ahad (Assassin’s Creed)**

You ran down the dusty path, clouds of dust rising up from wherever your feet landed. You cried for help as a man clad in white robes pursued you from the rooftops. To everyone you passed, you appeared to be a crazy woman, as such, they paid you no mind, offering only a glance before returning to their work. You were simply trying to survive another day, but they couldn’t see the threat-literally-looming over you.

This assassin had been after you for a little over a week. You hadn’t the slightest idea why he seemed so intent on murdering you, but when an assassin is after you, you run, you don’t stop to ask them why they want to kill you. Oh yes, might I just ask why you’re trying to kill me? Maybe talk it out over some lunch? Yeah, no.

You had a sneaking suspicion this was about your guardian/s involvement with the group you knew as Templars. Hell if you know, it wasn’t like you were involved with them. You had enough problems being the young adult you were after your guardian/s were killed by the very order they had worked for. You had never wanted to get involved with that mess, you dealt with the repercussions all throughout your childhood as it was. You weren’t even sure how this assassin knew you existed, after all, your existence had been kept a secret from the Templars. Or, at least, you were told it was.

Fear began to course ever stronger through your veins as you hit a dead end. The assassin jumped down from the roof and landed in front of you, blocking any chance of escape.

“I swear, I don’t know anything.”

“Your guardians went to meetings. Where were they held?”

“They never told me.” You paused, mind racing for a way to delay the inevitable. “What’s your name?”

“Why?” He growled.

“I want to know the name of who kills me.”

You didn’t expect him to give his name, so you were more than a little surprised when he muttered, almost too quietly to hear, “Altair.”

“Hey, you!” A commotion behind him caused him to become distracted. You instantly shot off. If you were going to die, you had no intention of letting this be the day you did.

**Edward Kenway (Assassin’s Creed)**

The rhythm of your feet hitting the ground was the only sound that echoed in the alley that you ran down, but they were soon followed by the distinct sound of boots pounding against the ground. You were frantically trying to escape from a group of large, angry men who were chasing you down after you had stolen a jewel from them. Yet, even though danger was close behind you, a smile graced your features and your (E/C) eyes were bright.

You sharply rounded a corner, so focused on running you didn’t notice the form in your path and you happened to ram into a body-a body that felt an awful lot like a wall. You quickly pushed yourself off the ground, breaths coming out heavy and panicked, though the smile still covered your face.

You quickly took in the appearance of the man in front of you. He was attractive. Very attractive. And, though you could only assume, he held the hardened appearance of a pirate.

“In a hurry?” His voice was laced with a Welsh accent, it penetrated your distracted mind and reminded you of the men who were surly right around the corner.

As you opened your mouth to reply the group rounded the corner, as you expected. You yelped and began to run again, looking over your shoulder and calling back to him. “My name is (Y/N)! Meet me at the dock later and I’ll explain!” With that you looked in front of you and narrowly missed running into a pole.

You could hear his laughter slowly fade behind you.

**Ezio Auditore da Firenze (Assassin’s Creed)**

(G/S) = Gaming System

You stared at the screen with a look of determination on your face. You had been playing this game all day and, clearly, didn’t plan to stop anytime soon. There was a light tapping of rain against the roof of your house, but that didn’t deter you. As you continued to play, the rain outside began to beat harder and harder against the roof, soon being joined by lightning and thunder. You were just about to quit the game when there was a large bang. The lights in your house flickered off, but your (G/S) lit up with a blue light.

The next thing you knew, you were surrounded by darkness.

When you blinked your eyes open, they were met with harsh light from the sun. Wait, when had you gotten outside? You pushed yourself into a sitting position. You were surrounded by people, dressed in old fashioned clothing. Where were you?

While you hadn’t the slightest idea where you were, something about all this seemed very familiar in a strange way. As you looked around at all the people—who were busy observing your clothes, that appeared very odd to them—you noticed someone behind them. Well, really, more above than behind, but, either way, seeing him suddenly told you where you were.

“Assassin’s Creed?” The question was mumbled lowly, so no one heard you. As the figure above disappeared you jumped up and ran off in the direction he’d went. “Wait! I need to-” you were cut off as you slammed straight into his chest and fell to the ground.

“Mia bella, are you alright?” He asked, holding out a hand.

“I'm…fine…” you panted out. “But…I need…to talk…to you.”

**Jacob Frye (Assassin’s Creed)**

You balanced on a rooftop, staring down at, what was soon to be, your reward for being patient. You had watched this specific person for so long that you knew their entire weekly routine. You were going to get your reward.

Just as you were about to jump down and knock the person to the ground when there was a sudden commotion sending almost everyone on the street running. You looked in the direction that everyone was running from. There was a dead body in the middle of the street. Well, crap.

That wasn’t any of your business though, no, your business was in getting the money needed to buy your next meal. Since your target had ran off, you needed a new one. Since almost everyone had ran off, you didn’t have nearly enough cover, but you still weren’t going to leave without getting some kind of reward. There was a man and a woman still standing over the corpse, seeming to be in a deep conversation.

A smirk crossed your face as you made your way to the roof directly over where they were. You braced yourself, before jumping from the roof and ramming into the man, you jerked whatever was in his pocket out and ran off, feet going as quickly as possible.

He yelled an insult after you before you heard his feet begin to chase after you.

And, holy crap, was he fast.

You let out a squeak as you pushed yourself harder, worried what he would do if he caught you. as you rounded a corner, you tripped and he was instantly over you. You threw whatever was in your hand away hoping he would at least go to pick it up and give you time to run off. He didn’t.

He leaned down, not much, but enough to send you into hysterics. A look of panic crossed his face.

“Calm down! I’m not going to hurt you!”

It took a few minutes of statements such as that, before you finally calmed down.

Well, that was one way to meet.

**Ratonhnhake'ton (Assassin’s Creed)**

You were sitting outside of your secluded house, eyes searching the sky for shapes in the clouds. You had never cared much for people. People were so easily corruptible and you didn’t want to be involved with all the death and pain that they caused, You would rather never talk to people again, but, unfortunately that wasn’t really an option.

You were expecting another boring day with nothing to do, but when a large man came barreling out of the trees, you couldn’t help the scream you let out as you jumped to your feet.

The man collapsed almost as soon as he emerged from the trees, confusing you, until you noticed that he was covered in blood.

You panicked, immediately running to make sure he hadn’t died. To your relief, he was alive. “How am I supposed to get you inside my house, big guy?” After a moment, you sighed and leaned down enough to toss his arm over your shoulder. “You’re going to owe me, stranger.”

He didn’t awake for a little over a day, when he did wake up, you happened to be changing the bandages you had placed around his abdomen. He shot up, pinning you to a wall. Despite the panic that welled up, you stayed calm. “Is that any way to thank the person who saved your life?”

He hesitantly let you go.

“What’s your name?”

“Connor.”

“(Y/N).” You sat in a chair in the corner of the room. “How’d you get into that shape anyway? And why did you have so many weapons on you?”

Well, this would be a long day.


	2. Dazai Osamu and Chuuya Nakuhara as Vampires

##  **General stuff**

\- Only Purebloods can turn others  
\- “Siring,” “sirred,” “sir,” etc refer to who they’ve turned.  
\- To turn someone into a vampire, they need to ingest the blood of a Pureblood.  
\- Demi-vampires are those who are turned by another vampire, and Halfblood vampires are born to a human and vampire pair.  
\- Vampires are more susceptible to being burned by the sun, but there’s no real risk of them _dying_ to it.  
\- To kill a Pureblood, they *must* be turned to ash. Demi-vampires are the basis for the running water and wooden stake methods of killing. Halfbloods can be killed in almost any way a human can be, albeit, with much more difficulty.  
\- The more attached they become to a human, the more they crave _their_ blood specifically.  
\- Pureblood’s venom is exponentially stronger than that of both Demi-Vampires and Halfbloods. It numbs the wound the instant it reaches the bloodstream, and eventually sends whoever they’re biting into a haze.  
\- (It’s enjoyable, though.)  
\- Purebloods and a majority of Halfbloods can shapeshift.  
\- Halfbloods require the least amount of blood of the three types, while Purebloods need the most.

##  **Dazai**

\- Definitely a Pureblood. ~~Don’t ask why, he just gives me those vibes~~  
\- He didn’t value human life in the slightest while in the Port Mafia, frequently draining whoever became his meal.  
\- While in the mafia he sirred Akutagawa.  
\- His gained respect for Oda (a human) is what eventually lead to a change in his opinions on humans. His change in view came well before he left the mafia, however.  
\- After joining the ADA he sirred Atsushi.  
\- Despite having a higher opinion on humans than he used to, he still frequently drinks from humans, though he never drains them.  
 **With an s/o**  
\- He adamantly refuses to drink from you, but no one - including you - would realize that he was intentionally avoiding consuming your blood, considering he frequently jokes about consuming your blood.  
\- When he _does_ eventually drink from you, its either completely spontaneous, or meticulously planned out, depending on what leads up to it.  
\- If you insists that he bite you upon realizing that hes avoiding doing so, then it will be well planned out and he’ll be ~~almost~~ completely in control.  
\- If he just happens to reach his limit, then he’s all heavy breaths and growls as he pins you to the wall, claws digging into your hips and pricking your skin as he pants against your neck.   
\- He’s _obviously_ trying to hold back, but if he’s reached this point, there’s little point in trying to stop him.  
\- ~~Begging him not to hurt you might give you an opening to push him off, but at the risk of absolutely _destroying_ him~~.  
\- ~~He’ll never be able to touch you without wondering if you’re scared of him again.~~  
\- He sinks his fangs in with enough force that both his fangs and _normal_ teeth break skin, but the venom numbs the pain and makes you lethargic.  
\- There’s a 50/50 chance that he’ll pull himself off of you before you lose too much blood, or you end up unconscious.  
\- Either way, he _won’t_ cause any permanent damage.  
\- Also, either way, he’s going to pull away completely after losing control around you.  
\- Just hit him upside the head ~~metaphorically~~ and beat it into him that the only reason he lost control was because he was resisting his nature (be sure to include the fact that his _nature_ doesn’t bother you at all, and make clear you love him no matter what he is.)  
\- Honestly, you may have been the one covered in blood afterwards, but _he_ definitely needs the most comfort. 

##  **Chuuya**

\- Demi-vampire.  
\- He was turned by Mori after joining the Port Mafia.  
\- He doesn’t see humans as any less than vampires for the most part, but he absolutely will not drink from animals.  
\- He has _taste_.  
\- That simple fact and the fact that he isn’t fond of _draining_ people means he ends up drinking from a large number of people monthly, rather than, say, the *three* that Dazai averages.  
\- Pretty much has adopted Akutagawa and if someone doesn’t know that Chuuya’s a demi-vampire, they might assume that he sirred Akutagawa.  
 **With an S/O**  
\- He has no problem drinking from his s/o to be completely honest.  
\- The only exception is if _you_ don’t want him biting you.  
\- It doesn’t really bother him if you set that line, either.  
\- He’s made due with others up until now, there’s no reason he can’t continue, he has plenty of self control, too.  
\- So what if you smell divine?  
\- So what if hes never wanted to sink his teeth into someone more?  
\- Denying a pureblood is dangerous, but denying a Demi is much more so, because they’re not nearly as well-controlled as those that sir them.  
\- Chuuya learns first hand that its _not_ as okay as he thought the first time he has to pull himself away during a kiss to stop himself from trailing his lips down your neck and embedding his fangs in the vulnerable skin above your jugular vein.  
\- His eyes are blood red and his fingers are leaving dents in the wall aside your head.  
\- He _won’t_ do it though.  
\- He’s still got enough presence of mind to force himself to walk away.  
\- He’ll start avoiding you after that, to be absolutely certain that he _doesn’t_ lose control.  
\- Really, at this point, it becomes evident that he _won’t_ be able to be around you without endangering you.  
\- So it comes down to whether you let him bite you or not.  
\- If you _do_ he makes a big deal of it, wining and dining you to the best of his ability (his fangs are digging into his bottom lip all night, fingers gripping the table to keep himself _back_ from you.)  
\- He’s not _vicious_ when he bites you, though. - He’s almost frighteningly calm, compared to his previous actions, breaking skin with a bite that’s almost painless. - He rarely leaves more than pinpricks in your skin. - Unless, of course, you ask for otherwise.


	3. Dante and Nero with a Short S/O

** Dante **

\- He called you shortie upon your first meeting and you threatened to rip out his kneecaps.

\- Instant romance.

\- The first time he finds you on top of the fridge is an accident.

\- You didn’t hear him coming and you figured he’d just assume you’d knocked your favorite cereal down with something if he saw you eating it.

\- You know he definitely put it up there on purpose to make you ask for his help, but there was no way you were going on an adventure to find him just to get some cereal.

\- Honestly, he kinda just looked at you and then immediately walked back out.

\- When he finds you standing in a rolly chair he lingers around a little longer.

\- He doesnt outright tell you to stop, but you can see the concern on his face.

\- He makes fun of you for climbing things after the fact for sure.

\- I mean, would it even be Dante if he didn’t throw at least a few playful jabs your way?

\- He doesnt call you out on it in the moment until you use _him_ as a ladder.

\- “If you wanted to be carried this badly then-”

\- “Oh, _shut up_!”

\- Actually convinces you to use your height and his to your advantage in fights.

\- Honestly he just thinks having you use his back as a boost looks impressive and dramatic and that’s obviously what he’s about.

\- ~~tbh hes right tho~~

\- He’ll carry you around on his shoulders like a child but he forgets to avoid doors so _be careful_

**Nero**

\- Honestly he doesnt really realize that you’re short when you first meet.

\- _But_ he does sometimes forget you’re standing beside him and run into you because you’re not in his direct line of sight.

\- He probably finds you climbing to reach the high cabinets pretty much daily.

\- No, you won’t ask for help.

\- Yes, you know he can esily reach them.

\- _Shut up Nero stop laughing._

\- The first time he caught you he just _immediately_ burst into laughter and nearly made you fall because it was the middle of the night and _he was not supposed to see you being a gremlin._

\- You frequently dive bomb him when he teases you about climbing.

\- It gives him a heart attack every time but he hasnt dropped you yet.

\- When you stand on objects that move you actually take years off his life span please stop.

\- When you start climbing him hes immediately a blushy mess, but you dont even notice because you’re too busy trying to get that last can of soup off of the tallest shelf in the grocery store.

\- “Name, you’re going to give Nero an anyerism if you dont stop.”

\- You, perched on his sholders with your chest resting against his head: “What? How?”

\- He joked about you going for the knees/ankles in fights once.

\- You immediately kicked him in the shin with _no hesitation_.

\- You felt awful about it the instant after but him and everyone else who saw _lost their minds_.

\- He’ll give you all the piggyback rides you want.

\- Which implies that he has a choice and that’s incorrect.

\- If he wont give you a piggyback ride you _will_ climb him.

\- Tbh hes too exhausted to fight you on it.

\- ~~Besides, you’ll win.~~


	4. DMC Boys Fears and How You Find Out About Them

** Dante **

“You can not be serious.” You almost feel bad about how ridiculous you found the situation and did all that was within your power to hide the twitching of your lips.

“Do I _look_ like I’m joking?”

 _Yes._ You don’t speak the thought, but seeing him standing on a chair to hide from the little speck of black skittering across the floor seems more of a joke than anything.

“Just kill it,” you cock a brow and he huffs out a “please.”

“Absolutely not,” you stoop to pick up the speck, allowing it to stumble around your palm, “she hasn’t done anything wrong.”

You take the spider to the nearest open window and nudge it outside before grinning back at Dante.

“Im never living this down.”

“Oh, absolutely not.”

**Nero**

He’s quiet while staring at your new pet, his eyes narrowed as you mumble little compliments to the creature.

You perk up even more when you see him standing in the doorway, “Nero! Do you want to hold her?”

“No!”

You blinked at him once, then twice, before the reality seemed to click in your head, “Are you scared of her?”

“No! I just…” He trails off, failing to find a reasonable excuse, but you just giggle.

“That’s okay, you dont have to hold her,” you give him a mischievous grin as you put your snake away, “that is, as long as you hold me!”

You launched yourself into his arms and he easily caught you. You could still see the red tint on his face and gave him a peck on the nose to assure him you didn’t mind.“

"Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone. Its kind of cute actually, someone like you being scared of a sentiant noodle.”

“Shut up.”

**V**

Its the middle of the night.

At first, you aren’t sure what woke you. There’s no discernable noises beyond the low roll of thunder outside your window, and it certinly wouldn’t have awakened you.

Reflexively, you reach a hand out to V’s side of the bed, feeling for his form so you could curl up with him and return to whatever senseless dream you’d been having. The instant you touch him, however, you realize what woke you.

He’s trembling. Its so light that you might’ve mistaken it for your mind playing tricks if you hadn’t noticed, in the same moment, the worry in his eyes.

“You should be asleep.”

Its all you can think to say. You certainly had never pegged the man as someone who would flinch at the sound of thunder, but now wasn’t the time for questioning.

You curled yourself against his side, tucking your head under his chin and beginning to hum quietly. His arms wrap around you and hold you against his side.

This was enough.

** Vergil **

“(Name)!”

You’re almost in hysterics. You would have been nicer about it, might have even helped if he hadn’t been mocking you for your own weightless fears moments before. You held a mouse in your hands, having easily plucked it from one of the humane traps you’d insisted be set.

“What? Scared of a little mouse?”

The creature squeaked in your hands and he flinched. You took a step closer and you swore that he almost tripped over himself in an attempt to escape the tiny animal in your hands.

You shook your head before approuching the door and setting down the mouse, giving it a little shove to hurry it on its way once the door was open.

“Maybe you’ll be nicer knowing I can easily tell Dante and Nero that you’re scared of wittle mice.”

“Dont you dare!”

Your grin was his only response.


	5. DMC Boys Reacting to Reader Flinching During an Argument

**Dante**

He got passionate quickly over your safety. You knew that.

Really, you’d readily take part of the blame in this rift. You _had_ jumped into a situation way out of your league and you _had_ ended up injured, no matter how minor.

At least, you would’ve taken part of the blame if you weren’t so stubborn.

“Am I supposed to just sit and watch while you get beat to death, Dante? I saw an opportunity to help you and I took it!”

“I was fine! I didn’t need your help! If anything, you put both of us in more danger by jumping in and making me worry about your safety.”

“Well, I’m sorry that wanting to help you makes me such an inconvenience!”

Dante took a step forward, raising a hand to push back his hair, and you flinched.

It wasn’t dramatic, it was barely there, the kind of movement most people would’ve missed, but he recoiled like you’d burned him.

The fight evaporated in milliseconds.

“Dante-”

“Did you think I was going to hit you?”

You winced at his tone. He was _hurt_ and you knew it was because he was convincing himself that it was his fault you’d think he would.

“Dante, it was just a reflex, I didn’t think you were going to- babe, I know you better than that.”

His normal air of confidence was broken, and both of you were silent.

You took your own step forward, grabbing his hands in yours, “I love you and I trust you.” You rose both of his hands to your cheeks in proof, “Reflexes are just dumb sometimes, you know?”

He took a moment to respond, reading your expression for any sign of hesitation, “Yeah,” his thumbs brushed against your cheekbones and you closed your eyes, leaning your face into his palms, “I’d never hurt you.”

“I know, Dante.”

**Nero**

He was so quiet when he was angry. It put you on edge.

Of course you knew better than to think it meant anything. He never even really yelled in arguments - mostly because he made himself scarce the moment the tension started - let alone would he do anything worse. Still, the silence made you more fidgety than usual.

Part of you wondered what was so special about this situation that made him stick around.

Sure, you’d made a bad call, but it wasn’t the first time you’d been hurt by a demon. Why was he so pissy this time?

“If you’re just going to sit there and brood, I might as well go pick up dinner.”

Those were the first words you’d said to him since you’d gotten hurt and it seemed to be enough to set him off.

“What were you thinking?”

A frown etched itself onto your face, his tone rubbing you the wrong way, “I was thinking about doing my job. Are you honestly going to sit there and act like me getting a scratch is the worst thing in the world after the way you’ve come home on multiple occasions?”

“You could have died!”

“You could’ve too! Hundreds of times! I never gave you the silent treatment for it!”

He stood from where he’d been sitting in one quick movement, leaving you staring at his chest as he stood over you.

You flinched back, almost tripping over yourself as you did.

Apparently it must have looked worse than you thought, because Nero looked shattered.

He stepped away from you, raising his hands and relaxing his posture like he was interacting with a scared animal, “I-I’m sorry.”

“Don’t do that,” you shook your head, raking a hand through your hair, “I’m not scared, you just surprised me.”

“You know I’d never hurt you.”

It was a statement, but you could see the uncertainty lingering behind his eyes.

“Of course I do, Nero.” You didn’t hesitate in taking the two steps between and wrapping your arms around his middle, “don’t give yourself too much credit, now. You and I both know that scary face only actually works when someone or something doesn’t know that you’re a big teddy bear.”

**V**

Intimidating was far from the first thing that came to mind when you attempted to describe V. If anything, he treated you like you were made of glass and you would be lying if you said that it didn’t tend to rub you the wrong way.  
You knew he didn’t mean to demean you, but, still, it sometimes felt like he thought that you weren’t capable of doing the job that you had been doing for years. 

The silence that greeted you upon regaining consciousness was far from peaceful. Even before he’d entered the room, the air was thick with tension.

You’d done it this time. 

He lectured you enough over scratches, he had to be beside himself over the slash in your forehead and, of course, the fact that you’d passed out.

You swallowed your worry and accepted the reality of your oncoming lecture, certain that he’d appreciate knowing you were awake, “V?" 

The second he rushed into the room, you wished you had given yourself a bit longer to prepare for the onslaught, because he looked _angry_.

"Were you _trying_ to get yourself killed?”

You flinched, hand going to your head. You hadn’t been expecting the sudden burst of sound to make the dull ache intensify, “V, look-” You cut yourself off when you noticed the expression on his face. All anger had twisted into something, debatably, worse. 

_Guilt_.

“I-I’m sorry,” your brow furrowed, confused, “I didn’t mean to frighten you.”

“What are you- _oh_.” You’d already forgotten the way you’d jerked back when he’d entered the room, and you gave him a shake of your head, a fond smile resting on your lips, “You didn’t scare me. Your voice hurt my head.”

His tension faded away, relief the only clear emotion on his face now. He sat himself at the foot of the bed, running a hand down his face, “Will you at least take a break and let yourself heal?”

You grinned, “Only if you’re the one taking care of me.”

**Vergil**

Oh, he definitely had every right to be pissed. 

This wasn’t one of the usual skirmishes that you were so fond of throwing yourself in the middle of, and it had ended with much more than the usual bruises and cuts that he would get huffy about. 

You had a _hole_ in your stomach. 

A shallow hole, not life threatening - at least, it wasn’t after you’d been rushed to a hospital. 

(That had been fun to explain. Giving a good reason for someone having a hole in any part of their body was practically impossible.)

You were lucid now, pain medicine wearing off - Dante had definitely recorded some of the funnier side effects of the anesthesia, but he was no where to be seen as you regained your senses. He’d probably been able to tell how pissed Vergil was the moment he’d seen the man’s posture. 

And of course, like the idiot you were, your first well-thought out - okay, not well-thought out, but thought out - words were a joke. 

“I guess we’ve e _ **stab**_ lished that I’m a danger to myself, huh?” You laughed sheepishly, almost instantly realizing that your joke was _probably_ more of a mistake than jumping into that fight had been.

“Are you _stupid_?” He took a step towards the hospital bed as he spoke. 

You flinched.

Yikes, that stung. 

He took another step, this time away from you. His expression only changed in the most minute amount, but his step away was enough for you to realize exactly what he was thinking. 

“Look, I’m sorry, but don’t start that.” You huffed, “I’m not stupid. And you don’t scare me.” The corner of your lips lifted in a smirk, “I do expect you to make up for that comment though.”

If you didn’t know him as well as you did, you might have missed the way the corners of his own lips lifted.


	6. Marvel Boys - How You Meet

F/N - First name

L/N - Last name

F/A - Favorite animal (or any animal)

E/C - Eye color

X

**Bucky Barnes (MCU)**

(Time frame: Post Winter Soldier, Pre Civil War/reuniting with Steve)

“Wait a minute!”

The pounding on your door had shook you from your sleep, worry welling up the moment you glanced at the clock on your bedside table. It was far too late for a visitor to mean anything good. In your hurry to get to the door, you’d tripped, catching your arm on the corner of a table as you had. 

Finally, after battling your way through the dark of your home, you threw open the front door, one hand clutching an open cut and looking the very definition of a mess.

Still, even in your state, you couldn’t resist being surprised at the appearance on the man on your doorstep. 

“I thought I was having a hard night.”

A rough laugh came from the stranger, “Sorry to prove you wrong.”

You stepped to the side and motioned him in, though you noticed the way he hid his right arm. He wasn’t as smooth as he seemed to think he was. 

“So, what exactly is the Winter Soldier doing standing outside my door?” Immediately, he tensed, panic clear on his face, “You can relax, I don’t have any desire to have government agents crawling around. I only just got myself out of SHIELD.”

“Am I that obvious?”

“I blame the hair. Try a man bun, no one would expect you to be running around with one of those.”

“Noted.”

You laughed as you pointed in the direction of your sofa, “I’m going to get this cut cleaned up. Do you drink tea? If not, I can start a pot a coffee.” 

“Either’s fine.”

“Got it. My name’s [F/N] by the way.”

“You can call me Bucky.”

“You’ve got it, Buck.” 

He couldn’t help but smile as you gave him a playful wink.

 **Clint Barton (MCU)**

(Time frame: Pre-SHIELD collapse, post Avengers)

Being a SHIELD agent wasn’t always trouble after trouble, just as—you assumed—being an Avenger allotted some time away from the front line in favor of some much deserved rest. Your job, like any, though it allowed for much more action than most, still had times where paperwork and meetings made for a day that dragged on and on. 

And this was one of those days. 

You shared a short lunch break with a few fellow agents, none of which ever spoke to you, spending even their breaks with faces shoved into documents. You often wandered if the paperwork became more interesting the higher your clearance level was, they certainly couldn’t be so focused on paying for yet another building leveled by yet another Avenger incident. 

After another uneventful lunch, you began the trek back to your office. There was much to be grateful of in your job—your own office included—but every job seemed to suck the life out of you after awhile. 

As you meandered your way back to your office and the paperwork residing there, you happened to run into someone. 

Both parties stumbled back a few steps, apologies spilling as you each took in the other. 

It took only a second for you to realize who you’d bumped into. 

“Hawkeye! I’m so sorry! I wasn’t paying attention to where I was- I-I’m a big fan! Of you! Not just the Avengers, even though I am a fan of the-” You breathed out a sigh, covering your face as you attempted to regain any of the professionalism that you had once thought you had, “I’m sorry, let me start over. I’m [F/N] [L/N]. And I am an agent, despite acting like a rabid fan.”

Hawkeye, who had maintained an amused grin throughout your tangent, offered a hand, still smiling as you shook it, “Don’t worry about it. And you can call me Clint.”

“Clint, right. Pleasure to meet you.”

**Johnny Storm (Fantastic 4)**

(Based on the original F4 movies)

When a flaming _anything_ comes crashing through your bedroom wall, you scream. It’s the natural response. When you realize it’s a _man_ you momentarily question your sanity. And, finally, when said man ends up passed out on your bedroom floor surrounded by destruction, you’d normally call an ambulance—or would you? How often does a flaming man crash through someone’s wall? Unfortunately, whether you wanted to call an ambulance or not, your only phone had been pulverized when he flew through the wall.

Who had a landline anymore? It wasn’t _your_ fault.

You dragged the man—who was easy to identify as the Human Torch—onto your bed and began to search his body for injuries. The injury that had knocked him out was quite easy to find, a large laceration on the back of his head, clearly from when he’d flown through the wall. You had expected more, considering the man _had_ flown through a wall, after all.

You cleaned up his wound with all the skill of a random citizen having a superhero falling into her care. 

It wasn’t more than an hour or so after that he shot straight up in the bed. His eyes immediately landed on your form, your feet perched on the back of a chair and your head on the footrest. An open book was in your hands, but it was forgotten the moment he awoke. 

“About time you woke up, I was beginning to get worried.” You gave him a smile. “I’m [F/N] [L/N], the woman you owe a wall.”

“I’m Johnny Storm.”

“I’m well aware, Mr. Human Torch.” You motioned to the part of your floor he’d landed on, burn marks standing out against the hardwood. “You owe me floorboards too.”

 **Logan Howlett (X-Men)**  
(Time frame: Pretty much any. Post Origins and the first X-Men)

Your story wasn’t unique in the world of Mutant and human conflict. 

Your parents had kicked you out the moment they discovered you were a mutant—class A parenting, if they asked you—and that led you to pick-pocketing and stealing to stay alive from day to day. 

You didn’t like it and realized that you had no more of an excuse than anyone else on the street, but you had to get money somehow and people weren’t exactly fond of your _kind_. Mutants were given the short end of the stick at every turn and you doubted that would ever change. 

More often than not people were more than willing to offer you money, at least, after you showed them your fangs.

You didn’t think twice about who you were stealing from a majority of the time, you got them alone, bared your fangs, and then were on your way. That was that. You also didn’t think twice about your reputation spreading around, but it was, more than you could imagine.

You were at a bar one night, as usual, waiting for one of the drunkards to go wandering out on his own, the prime opportunity to snatch a wallet with nearly no repercussions. When you were confronted by a man, you hardly flinched. “Are you [F/N]?”

You looked up at the man without the slightest concern on your face. He was larger than you, but you’d robbed far bigger men than him. “That depends. You a cop?”

“If I was, don’t you think you’d be in handcuffs by now?”

“I suppose.” You hummed, before offering a Ganges grin, “Alright, alright, yeah I’m [F/N]. [F/N] [L/N]. And you would be?”

“Logan Howlett.”

“Logan? I think I just might remember that.”

**Loki Friggason (MCU)**

(Time frame: Fight with Hela in Ragnarok)

It wasn’t the first time you’d fought alongside Thor. You were an Avenger after all—well, honorary Avenger according to Tony, not that you ever paid much mind to his taunting. 

You’d been with Bruce when he’d vanished, that much you knew, but you weren’t sure how much time you had lost in between that and regaining your sense of self. 

You understood Bruce’s struggle better than the others ever could. 

While you weren’t a “rage monster”, the moment your subconscious perceived a threat, your form was overtaken by that of a giant [F/A]. You and Bruce had bonded over this fact, leading to a duo of giants always ready to have the other’s back. 

You’d never had the opportunity to meet Thor’s brother, something that your team often forgot, considering your own sibling-esque relationship with the Asguardian. 

You hadn’t expected your first introduction to the supposed villain brother to be him announcing himself as the Asguardian people’s savior. 

“You’re Loki?”

“Yes. And you are?”

“[F/N]. I’ve got to say, you’re not what I was expecting from the man who tried to enslave Earth.” He didn’t have time for a response, not that you cared to wait for one yourself. 

Amidst your own fighting, you found yourself aside Thor again, “That brother of yours is a real charmer. _Your savior is here!_ Is he serious?”

With a loud laugh, he tossed a comeback, “He can be very theatrical.”

“I think that’s a bit of an understatement.”

**Peter Parker (MCU)**

(Time frame: After Ned finds out about Peter being Spiderman)

Changing schools in the middle of the year always brought with it more turmoil than was necessary. You knew that better than most, after all, this was far from the first time you’d faced a mid-year transfer. 

Still, it grew easier with each transfer and, you’d begun to realize, the older you got the more other students just began to ignore your presence. It was a lonely existence, but one you had resigned yourself to. 

Besides, this would be your last move.

Finally, after years of being tossed from one school to another, you were sent to stay with your [relative]. 

Still, the first day was like many before it, lonely and awkward as students would offer you fleeting glances before returning to their own groups. With any luck, you wouldn’t paint a target on your head to attract those of the students that would just as well bully you as let you alone. 

“Um, hey,” you toyed with the straps on your bag as you approached the least occupied table in the lunch room, uncertainty in your voice, “would you mind if I sat here?”

“Oh, yeah, sure!” You smiled as the two boys scrambled to clear off the spot in front of them. 

“Thanks, I’m [F/N].”

“I’m Peter, this is Ned.”

Hardly a moment after, Ned interjected, “Have you heard about Spiderman?”

Peter elbowed him, earning a laugh from you. 

“Yeah, the guy from those youtube videos, right? I figure it’s all in the suit. Unless he’s some alien or something. Why do you ask?” You cocked your head.

“No reason!”

“Uh, yeah, just curious.”

“Whatever you say.”

**Pietro Maximoff (MCU)**

(Time frame: Post-AOU au, Civil War; Pietro sides with Cap.)

(E/C) eyes observed the male intruder traipsing about the warehouse you had adopted as your own. 

It hadn’t taken much to stake a claim on the property. It had been abandoned for years, nestled in the midst of a tangle of trees, too tightly woven to bring in the vehicles needed for destruction without taking out the trees too. Your particular abilities made it all too easy to convince those who did wander along, that the warehouse was home to a nasty number of woodland creatures. 

It wasn’t as if there was any concerning individuals out searching for you either. The only people aware of your existence were the Avengers and you were sure that they wouldn’t divulge your location to anyone. 

Though the recent divergence from friend to foe did make you wander. With all that had happened, any of the team might divulge your secret. 

Said secret being your existence. 

Curiosity filled your eyes as the stranger walked further into the darkness of your abode.

The warehouse wasn’t exactly welcoming. Maybe his friends had dared him? He did look young. Maybe your age.

You followed him via the old pipes running across the ceiling of the building. 

“[F/N]!” Your name coming from the mouth of another being surprised you, “Captain America sent me!” You perked up at the title as he yelled into the darkness. Steve had always been more welcoming of your presence than Tony. 

Knowing Steve sent this stranger also gave you hope that you hadn’t been ratted out by Tony and his Accord. 

You silently dropped down behind him, “And why is Mister America hunting me down?”

You couldn’t help but be somewhat disappointed by his lack of surprise. 

“He’s gathering a team”

“Well, I have always wanted to experience the superhero shtick. Name’s [F/N].”

“Pietro.”

**Sam Wilson (MCU)**

(Time frame: Beginning of Winter Soldier)

“C'mon, Cap, you’ve got nothing on me. I’m _known_ for being fast.”

“Whatever you need to tell yourself to get sleep at night.”

“Oh, I’m going to get you!” With a playful growl, you launched yourself onto Steve’s back. He didn’t miss a step, continuing his run while you placed yourself atop his shoulders. 

Your partnership with Steve arose from your interest in him and those he had fought alongside. What was a one time interview for your blog became a strong friendship, one that resulted in even the reveal of your abilities.

“On your left.”

You perked up as Steve spoke to a fellow runner, giving the stranger a grin as he fell away. You must have been a strange sight, perched atop Steve’s shoulders. 

When you next heard Steve’s comment, you were typing away a text, but quickly turned to the stranger again. This time, you offered a wave and gave Steve a tap so he would stop. 

After hopping down, you fell in step beside the man, “Sorry about Steve. The whole superhero thing makes him hard to beat.” 

“I figured that out,” he stopped, offer in you a hand, “Sam Wilson.”

You took his hand, “[F\N] [L/N].”

An easy conversation arose, him mostly questioning your relationship with Steve and, by extension, the other Avengers. 

It wasn’t until Steve once again lapped him that he seemed to remember that he had been running. 

“Don’t say it!”

“On your left.”

“Come on!”

You rolled your eyes as you joined Sam in chasing after Steve, “Boys.”

**Steve Rogers (MCU)**

(Time frame: Post SHIELD collapse, pre AOU, references the AOU scene with Thor’s hammer)

Working for SHIELD hadn’t been among your aspirations upon leaving home. 

Yet, here you were. 

Or, more accurately, there you had been. 

Your work as an assassin had long kept you separate from the golden heroes of the world, but the collapse brought that to an end. With what information had been kept on you being stored the old fashioned way, you’d made an escape, free to abandon all the drama that SHIELD had supplied. 

So, you found yourself questioning why you now sat aside the heroes that you’d always thought yourself too tainted to friend. But here you were, the part of a bona-fide Tony Stark party, with all of the Avengers in attendance. 

As the newest member—not that you were an Avenger, far from it—you received the spotlight as the group tossed questions at you from every side. 

The conversation trailed away from you, for which you were grateful, and turned to Thor’s hammer. The men immediately jumped at the opportunity to prove themselves ‘worthy’ and you couldn’t help but make a snide remark toward their testosterone-fueled pride. 

You also couldn’t help being impressed when the hummer moved for Steve—and beyond amused at the surprise on Thor’s face, but you’d leave that for later. 

“I don’t think I properly introduced myself, Captain.” You gave him a grin, one everyone in the room could tell was flirtatious, “I’m [F/N] [L/N].” You held out your hand and he took it a grin matching your own on his face.

“Steve Rogers.”

You opened your mouth to speak but Tony quickly cut in, “Do you have to flirt in front of us?”

“Tony!”

**Thor Odinson (MCU)**

(Time Frame: Ragnarok)

Meeting the heir to the Asguardian throne was the last thing you had expected from your imprisonment on Sakaar, but he was there, imprisoned the same as you. 

Your time as a contender had brought you more than your fair share of pain, but the look on Thor’s face served to convince you he’d suffered plenty before even being introduced the the Grandmaster’s game. 

Still, you knew Thor was the greatest chance you had to escape and you wanted your chance, even if it meant weaseling your way into his favor with all the womanly charm you had left after the months of fighting you’d done for the Grandmaster’s enjoyment. 

“Hello there,” you gave Thor your best attempts at a sexy smile. 

“Oh, yeah, this is [F/N].” Korg introduced you and you gave him a nod.

“I’ll answer any questions he has, pal, you can go hang out with Miek, yeah?”

He hesitated and you couldn’t help but wonder if he had the same plan or if he simply wanted to chat with the newcomer. Either way, he relented without protest.

“He’s a good guy, great for some laughs too,” you shrugged, “I would have let you be, but I had to chat with you. Never expected to find an Avenger trapped in here with me.”

“You’re from Midgard?” you gave him an affirmative nod, “How did you end up here?”

“You’re asking the wrong person. All I remember is Earth and then,” you motioned a _poof_ with your hands, “here I am.”

“I’ll get us both out of here, you have my word.” 

Any response you had died in your throat. He hadn’t even gave you a chance to flirt your way into his good graces before offering his help. 

You decided then, Thor was your favorite Avenger.

**M'baku (MCU)**

(Time frame: Meeting about giving him the heart-shaped herb)

As Bucky Barnes’ nominated “sitter” - why Rogers trusted you and why T'challa hadn’t talked him out of leaving you in Wakanda, you still didn’t know - you’d grown comfortable around T'challa and Shuri. It wasn’t as if Barnes was much for conversation, even conscious, and you couldn’t limit yourself to awkward silences.

You’d hardly expected anything of what was now occurring. T'challa dead and Killmonger on the throne… You’d counted on a few months of silence, but, as always, you were thrown into the midst of chaos.

Now, stumbling after the group, you couldn’t help but be bitter. Not at them, not at anyone, but at what your life had become.

This was why you’d kept yourself hidden away in your youth.

You peeked around Ross, taking in the man you’d all come to meet. Shuri had shared with you after the fact about M'baku’s challenge, such remained your only knowledge of the man, still, he looked almost exactly as you had imagined.

When Ross continued to stutter his speech after their _obvious_ sign to _shut up_ you gave him a nudge, and your own hush.

“If you say one more word, I’ll feed you to my children!” Immediately, you sidestepped, you’d just met Ross, he wasn’t worth getting on this guy’s bad side. “I’m kidding, we’re vegetarians.”

Despite yourself, you snorted.

The entire group sent you a pointed glare.

“What? It was funny!”

**Scott Summers (X-Men)**

(Time Frame: X-Men-X2, set in Xavier’s school.)

Waking in an unknown place is _always_ unsettling.

Especially when you couldn’t remember anything more about yourself than your name.

“Hello?” Your voice echoed around the empty room and you raked your hands through your hair.

Where were you?

How did you get here?

Another facet of who you were awakened as your claws - _claws_ , how had you missed those? - nicked the nape of your neck.

Okay, you were a mutant.

How did you know what mutants were? And, more importantly, why did you feel like that was something to be ashamed of?

Who _wouldn’t_ want claws?

Well, okay, you _had_ just cut yourself, but still, _claws!_

Quicker than you had counted on, your feet carried you into open halls, the room you left behind fading from your mind as you hunted for a way out.

And then you ran into him, a vicious growl tearing from your throat as his hands reached out to steady you. Quickly, he released you, hands raising in a universal sign of surrender.

“Easy, I’m not your enemy, [Name].”

You found no solace in his knowledge of your name, finding instead you trusted him even less than moments before. “How do you know me?”

Claws once again slit skin, your body easily remembering the defense your brain had lost.

“I don’t. Logan mentioned your name. I’m Scott.”

Logan’s name sounded familiar and set off a small string of memories in your mind.

Wolverine was just short of being your adoptive brother.

And you were willing to bet he was the reason you were here, probably on account of trouble, because when _wasn’t_ it trouble with him?

“Where is he? I’m gonna kill him.”

**T'Challa (MCU)**

(Time frame: After Civil War, in Wakanda.)

You’d spent plenty of your time helping people before you met Bucky and you’d spend plenty of time helping people long after he’d forgotten you. That was your lot in life, a healer cursed to be forgotten by all those you healed.

You’d questioned countless times after you learned of your abilities what would be worse: watching your loved ones suffer and die, or having them forget your existance.

That question was answered after you were forced to watch one of your best friends die.

Death was worse.

Bucky raised the question in your mind of something capable of returning memories and, now, you’d followed him and Captain America to Wakanda. Weeks followed with Shuri ushering you around, attempting to create something that would seperate your abilities from the touch that took memories.

More time was spent on her brother’s gear, though you never minded. You even began to enjoy watching her work.

It was a month before you officially met T'challa and, even then, it was coincidence.

“Shuri!” You almost slammed into a back as you darted into her lab, “Oh, hello.”

You recognized him easily, but anything more intelligent fled your mind when you finally saw him face to face.

He was _hotter_ than you had expected.

“You must be the healer I’ve heard so much about.”

“Um, yeah. [Name].” You held your hand out and he took it.

With a nod and smile he gave his own unnecessary introduction, “T'challa.”


End file.
